


Five Nights Natasha Romanoff Spent Cuddling With Maria Hill (And One Night She Didn't)

by HufflepuffBanana



Series: Of Love and of Grief [Blackhill] [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, F/F, Fluff, Sadness, blackhill - Freeform, there's a mention of some phlint in there too but it's never explicitly stated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 04:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20057857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HufflepuffBanana/pseuds/HufflepuffBanana
Summary: Five nights Natasha Romanoff spent cuddling with Maria Hill, and one night she didn't. Basically just a bunch of Blackhill fluff and then a sad ending scene. Oneshot, Infinity War-compliant.





	Five Nights Natasha Romanoff Spent Cuddling With Maria Hill (And One Night She Didn't)

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write this particular fic for a while, so here you go. Oneshot. Also, this is my first time writing Maria Hill, so I apologize if it's out-of-character.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Any recognizable characters, settings, events, concepts or objects do not belong to me. I am not claiming ownership of them, and intend no copyright infringement. I am writing this story for fun, not for profit.

**Five Nights Natasha Romanoff Spent Cuddling With Maria Hill (And One Night She Didn’t)**

“Maria? Is that you? Why are you in my room?”

The figure lying on their stomach in Natasha’s bed did happen to be, in fact, Maria Hill. Natasha smiled slightly, and began to ask why Maria was there, when she saw that her fellow S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was passed out. She climbed into the bed herself, and Maria stirred, burying her face deeper into the pillow.

“Why are you in my apartment?”

“You gave me a key...I was too far from my place…” she trailed off, giving a half-shrug and turning her face into Natasha’s shoulder.

Natasha hid her smile. She would never have expected to be cuddling with S.H.I.EL.D. agent Maria Hill in her apartment at eleven-forty-two on a Friday night. She would have to commit this scene to memory; it wasn’t as if this would happen again.

* * *

How very wrong she was.

Natasha grinned when she came home and saw Maria curled up in the fetal position on Natasha’s bed, fast asleep once again It had been a month and a half since the first time she’d showed up, but Natasha welcomed it.

She prepared for bed, and then climbed into the bed next to Maria and held her. It must have been a very interesting sight, were anyone watching, to see Natasha Romanoff cuddling Maria Hill, Maria’s face in Natasha’s neck and Natasha’s face in Maria’s hair.

And it was awkward in the morning when they woke up, but all that awkwardness melted away when Natasha kissed Maria for the first time.

* * *

“So, you and Hill, huh?”

Natasha smirked at Clint, though she felt her cheeks reddening. “Yeah. Just another one of many S.H.I.E.L.D. relationships, I guess.”

It was Clint’s turn to blush, and he seemed unable to stop himself from glancing over at Phil.

Maria showed up again, then, handing Natasha a beer. Natasha nodded in thanks. “I sensed that you were talking about me,” said Maria dryly.

“About the _two _ of you, actually,” said the slightly-drunk Clint, still sprawled across the couch, He nodded to Maria and Natasha in turn, smirking, but the smirk faded when he met Mara’s cool gaze.

“Yes? What about us?” Maria sat on the couch next to Natasha, draping an arm around her girlfriend's shoulders and holding Natasha close. Natasha snuggled into Maria’s side, earning a second smirk from Clint, but she ignored it. It was easy to ignore, Natasha found, especially when the light touch of Maria’s fingertips against the bare skin of Natasha’s arm was so distracting.

Clint stood. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it.”

Natasha waited until the archer was gone, then dropped her head back on Maria’s shoulder and gave a quiet whimper. She could _ feel _ her girlfriend’s smirk, and her sharp gaze, and realized that she rather enjoyed the feeling.

And then Maria's lips were on hers, and Natasha grinned, grabbing the sleeve of the jacket that Maria had stolen from Steve and pulling her impossibly closer. She wound her arms around Maria’s waist and broke the kiss, grinning up at the brunette. Maria brushed her mouth over Nat’s, but stood anyway, and Natasha caught her wrist.

“Where are you going?”

“Your level, if you want,” replied Maria, shrugging casually, and Natasha felt her face turning as red as her hair. Maria smirked, and brushed a light kiss across the bridge of Nat’s nose. Natasha grinned and followed.

* * *

It was actually _ Natasha _ who was half-passed-out in their apartment on the fourth night. Maria was reading, Nat’s head in her lap. One hand turned the pages of the book; the other wove mindlessly through Natasha’s hair. She was murmuring words that even Natasha could barely hear, but Nat liked the sound of them, and she whispered something in Russian before drifting off.

Maria, being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, had mastered and was fluent in several different languages—Russian being one of them. She knew what the words sounded like, she knew what the phrases sounded like.

She knew what “I love you” sounded like, even coming from a half-asleep redhead.

She moved some of Natasha’s hair out of her face, noticing how uncharacteristically _peaceful_ Natasha appeared in her sleep. Of course, she was always prepared, but just the sight of her made Maria smile.

“I love you, too,” she murmured, pulling the sleeping Natasha into her lap.

* * *

“God, what happened?”

Natasha shook her head, a little too quickly than was comfortable, and brought a hand to her forehead in a fruitless attempt to soothe the throbbing headache. “Nothing,” she breathed. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

“You need rest,” said Maria, more of an order than a simple statement. “Go lie down. I’ll get you some water.”

“But—”

“_Natasha _.”

Natasha glanced at her girlfriend one last time before sighing, nodding, and limping to the bedroom. Maria followed moments later, handing Natasha the glass of water and taking a seat next to her on the bed.

She leaned over, frowning as she examined Natasha’s injuries. The mission had only been expected to last two days. It was only _supposed_ to last two days. It had lasted nearly a week and a half. “Oh, Nat,” Maria murmured, running a finger down one of the identical bruises on Natasha’s neck that looked suspiciously like hands.

Natasha smiled grimly and nodded.

“Who were they?”

“Some group trying to restart the Red Room—or at least some version of it. Phil and Clint and I...we were supposed to stop them, bring them in, kill them if necessary, but they seemed to know that we were coming.”

Maria’s face hardened. “Did Fury say anything about bringing them back in one piece or not?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, then winced. “He didn’t specify, Agent.”

Maria nodded sharply, and stood and left the room. Natasha distantly heard the door to the apartment open and close, and smiled to herself.

Maria returned to the apartment an hour and a half later, looking messy but otherwise okay. She offered Natasha a faint smile and led them both back to the bedroom. Maria watched as Natasha drank the rest of the water, and helped her prepare for bed, and wrapped the redhead in her arms when they finally lay down.

Natasha lay her head on Maria’s chest, and could feel her girlfriend’s heartbeat; she had to admit, it calmed her. Comforted her. She tilted her head up so that she could meet Maria’s eyes, and soon found herself the recipient of a soft, sweet kiss that didn’t last quite as long as she would have hoped.

* * *

Natasha rushed back to New York the moment she had a chance to leave Wakanda. The survivors had provided a lovely place of residence, but she had to check something, first.

It was harder than she thought it would be, trying to unlock the door when she was this shaky. But she practically flew through the door when it was finally unlocked, letting it slam shut behind her.

“Maria?”

Natasha winced when there was no response. There were two sounds and two sounds only: the ticking of the clock and Nat’s own heavy breathing. “Maria?”

She searched the apartment, and searched it again, and again. No. She refused to believe, she _ refused_—

She fished her phone out of her jacket pocket and, panicking, called Maria. She heard the ringing, but ended the call before it could send her to voicemail. Natasha closed her eyes and tilted her head back, gazing at the ceiling when she reopened her eyes.

Her phone buzzed in her hand. She winced again and glanced down, daring to hope, but found only a text from Steve: _ I’m sorry, Nat._

Natasha let out an anguished shout, backing into the bedroom and locking the door. She then threw herself onto the bed, curling up in a ball, knees drawn up to her chin, and let herself cry.


End file.
